


Under the Dying Sun: Shinobi.

by Razega



Series: Under the Dying Sun [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Fluff, Romance, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-31 17:39:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Razega/pseuds/Razega
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short drabbles and prompts I've written for the Naruto fandom.<br/>We're starting with Shikamaru and Temari's first meeting after the war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Victory

War. It was a troublesome word.

Even more-so for the best tactician among the Shinobi Alliance.

Shikamaru sighed to himself, stuffed his hands in his pockets and kicked a piece of pebbled earth. He was relieved, but too tired to ultimately rejoice just yet. Heavy losses weighed him down, and he thought about the finality of them while he walked to where his friends stood in a circle.

Ino and Choji were staring at Naruto, utterly amazed at his power, and ridiculous smile. Ino's eyes flicked to Sakura occasionally, standing tall and equal with Sasuke and Naruto on the high peak of the debris. The fire of a rival burned in her opaque eyes.

Choji was crying, of course. The oaf was overwhelmed with joy, happily mumbling about strength and friends and survival. His hand was intertwined with Ino's, not that either one was paying attention to that.

The pineapple-haired strategist clapped a hand on Choji's shoulder, giving his best smile to his team. He looked up to Naruto on that ledge for a moment, and a "tch" fell from his lips. Lips that found the crisp edge of the cigarettes that had been stuffed in his jacket and forgotten about until now. He took the opportunity from a patch of shrubs that were ignited for the time being, where soon the dirt would snuff out their flames.

After overseeing his friend's safety, the dark haired man withdrew to another mission. He walked into the mass of shinobi with no more than a hand thrown up to dismiss himself.

Shikamaru found her finishing a round of 'job-well-done's to her pack of shinobi. He could hear the laughter, cries of joy and suffering from a distance. Matsuri was facing Temari directly as he walked up behind the elder woman. Not that he cared particularly, but Matsuri gave his position away, all blushing mad, eyes shifting and pointing a teasing finger behind Temari. The blond bristled, and by the time she was turned around completely, he was there.

All of him, and he didn't give her more than a half-second before he grabbed her chin in a lazy hand, and kissed her. There was no point in making a show of it, really. Before the war, Shikamaru had thought about asking her to dates and such, but then things had turned for catastrophic. Besides, they'd just won their lives back. He could afford to be selfish now. He couldn't bother to worry about her rejection (which he knew wouldn't come), or her hand slapping him. The taller man had endured far worse in the last three days alone.

Temari froze for his kiss, embarrassed that he would do such a lovely thing before her entire squadron. She was mad, and she was angry, and sad, and happy and overjoyed all at once that she didn't know what to do. So, in a moment of her spirited self, she tried to slap him. 

Shikamaru caught her hand before it hit his cheek, and moved it over his shoulder to bring her closer. She ended up in a fit of giggles, beaming that incredible smile she displayed only for him. To him, her face never looked prettier, scratched and dirty as it was.

Temari buried her face in his jacket when the whistles and cat calls started. After a deep breath to regain her composure, she whirled on the crowd and bit back a sharp command that ended in a squeak when she heard Shikamaru let out a loud laugh from deep in his chest.

It was the most marvelous sound she'd ever heard.   
The blond turned to him again, the younger shinobi unable to stop. He laughed so hard he bent over to hold the stitch in his side. Temari was trying her best not to smile and laugh too, but Shikamaru's rare laugh was contagious. 

A sneer lifted on her lips and a peel of laughter erupted from the crowd. Matsuri stood a little ways back, also bend over in laughter. It was slowly catching between the men and women standing before the two pineapple-headed ninja.

Temari could do little more than quickly pinch the bridge of her nose, letting a sigh of retreat pass her sun-kissed lips. She smiled and let one single laugh out before she walked back to Shikamaru and grabbed him by the arm.

He smiled at her, just happy that it was all over. Sure he was sad that his Dad was gone, along with other priceless friends and comrades, but he was here, ready to rebuild the world they fought so bravely to protect.

Temari waved a hand in the air behind her, barking a quick, "Dismissed!" at the group as she and Shikamaru walked back to Temari's camp.

"Baka.", She'd said, throwing her weight into him halfheartedly as they walked.

Shikamaru blushed, but didn't care to apologize, "I love you, troublesome woman.", he whispered, his voice harsh from inhaling dirt and dust and laughing so hard. He stopped just outside her tent. The tactician stared down at her, completely serious. He wanted her to know. He felt he didn't need to beat around the bush on the subject anymore, and the thought of losing her in this war made him wise up to the decision.

The look in his eyes was intense, and Temari's face flushed a thousand shades of red before she said, "I know, you idiot. It's about time you said so.", and she tugged him haphazardly into her tent with a devious grin.

She deliberately placed their shoes outside of her door, and zipped it shut.


	2. Impetuous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written years ago for a Kisame and Sakura bar pompt.

Written for a KisaSaku bar prompt in which they’re both dorks. Sorry in advance if they’re not dorky enough, it was hard without making them OOC. Also sorry if you have a hard time figuring out what the Innkeeper is saying, I loved writing her.  
Enjoy!

The weather couldn’t be more horrid.

It was wet, it was cold, and a blue-grey nose had a pink tint shadowing its tip.

Hoshigaki Kisame sniffled, and wiped at his dribbling nose for the umpteenth time. After the Akatsuki break-up he had been traveling around the world. The shark-nin wanted to see the world without going to wherever it was to kill a target or do Pein’s bidding.

Over his years of servitude, of how many he wished not to count, Kisame had saved the better halves from the majority of his ransom/bounty/reward coin. He did so just for this very time when he could carefully extract himself from the Akatsuki and retire to travel, particularly the oceans.

However, on this cut of his journey, the giant ninja found himself a headache and a ceaseless runny nose. He was about half way through the Land of Iron, passing through a desolate, snow-capped mountain pass. Not many travelers would cross through the Land of Iron, and Kisame could see plain as day just why.

There was nothing more than frozen white snow that crunched uncomfortable and loud under his heavy footfalls. Kisame frowned at it, but his ugly expression wouldn’t scare the snow into melting away. He found himself grueling about how awful and off-putting this weather was. It was so frustrating!

The face he was making contorted in favor of a sneeze, and Kisame stopped to wipe at his nose again when a sound caught his attention. The sound of voices.

Salvation, he thought, and possibly a warm bed out of this wasteland of ice and snow, and stupidity, he childishly added with a snarl that sounded more like he was hawking a lougie.

A pleasant Inn Keeper was shouting to her husband from the kitchen window of their business. The elder man was outside chopping the last bits of firewood, and the woman was going on about getting it done fast before an approaching storm hit.

Kisame stared at the altercation for a moment longer before the grey-haired lady noticed his massive form standing just outside the porch light.

“Why how ye'do, traveler! Come come, inside befur the blizzard smacks’s right upside this ol’ mountain’s noggin’!” She hollered to him with a smile of yellowed false teeth. Her head disappeared from the window with a loud bang and suddenly she was standing before Kisame, hunched over in her old age and holding the door open for him.

The retired shinobi stood awkwardly just inside, taking up too much room in the small lobby for his liking. The woman hobbled back to the clerk’s desk and pointed a reprimanding finger at him, “It’s goin’ be at least for two nights young man. We ‘ought not have anyone venturin’ out 'til this storms’ blown over, s'posed to be the worst on'yet.”

The woman laughed and shook her head at some joke that was lost on Kisame, “First night’s on me'n the old yuppie out there, since the storms’ a'brewin’. Damn weather!” she cackled, and slapped her hand on the old oak.

The most important thought Kisame had in that moment was how weird this old woman was, and while she was indeed much older than he was, it felt so strange to be called young man. He gratefully took the key she handed to him, being told the bill would be settled when he left.

Just before our giant friend began to ascend the stairs, the strange little old woman turned on him and said, “Oh, and one mur’ thing. That snifflin’ thing ya got goin’ on… When you’re all settled and what, come back'on down here for some supper and a big 'ol bottle o’ warm Sake. We’ll clear them nose passages right up!”

Kisame nodded with another silent sniffle and pass at his nose with his dirty sleeve. He was tired from walking in the snow all day, but a nice hot meal and some Sake definitely sounded like a good way to fight his oncoming cold and his bitter attitude towards the weather.

As he came to the top of the landing, he took his eyes off of his feet and could have sworn he saw a flash of pink hair go into a room on the left, all the way at the end of the hall. The blue man blinked a few times and proceeded to his own room, which also happened to be at the end of the hall, on the right.

He fumbled with the keys, and at long last he was greeted with the sight of an old, but comfortable-looking bed with lots of blankets, and a small rock heater against the far wall. A quiet sigh of relief whispered from him, and he dropped his pack unceremoniously onto the floor.

Kisame didn’t want to fall into that big bed until he had a full belly, clear sinuses, and was drunk. His mood had already lightened a bit at the sight of that bed, and he decided a warm, not snow-soaked change of clothes would be another step towards his happy stupor.

Once downstairs, Kisame walked through the double doors labeled 'Bar’ on the opposite side of the lobby, to be greeted by the smell of home cooked beef stew, and the wildly beautiful sight of one Haruno Sakura.

He stopped dead in his walk, the sated grin wiped right off his face, to be replaced with a flush. Kisame knew who she was entirely, and knew she was aware of the same about him. He knew she was beautiful, too.

Not that he planned to… at least not tonight, but Kisame wasn’t the sort who was very good at talking to girls and/or seducing them. He didn’t know how long he posed in that awkward stance, just inside the doorway, mid-stride, but he supposed that was probably not the best way to play this cool.

He regarded Sakura with a large personal bubble, deciding to give her as much space as possible. She was lethal, and so was he, but he didn’t feel his best and he didn’t want to cause any trouble, no… he was retired.

Sakura sized him up, nursing her own bottle of Sake while she matched some items in her backpack with the medical scroll in her hand. Her jade eyes would flick from her text, to his eyes, watching him watch her.

She made him anxious, like if she saw him looking at her for more than five seconds she might punch him into oblivion like she had done to Sasori. He remained anxious until an adorable sneeze burst from her, and she sighed and wiped her nose with a tissue. So she was getting sick, too…

“Alright ya youngin’s, stew’s done and you’re goin’ have'ta sit t'gether over at that table unless ya want'ta go freezin’ your bumkins off!” The little old woman burst from the kitchen, shaking a finger in gesture to the long table Sakura was currently occupying.

The innkeeper was going on about her yuppie of a husband not getting enough firewood to build a larger fire for the bar, as Kisame noted the grand fireplace at Sakura’s back, a small fire burning in its huge hearth.

Sakura huffed a sigh, gently rolling up her medical scroll and placing it neatly back inside of her backpack, which she crammed underneath the table between her naked feet. It dawned on Kisame then that she was only wearing half of what he had seen her wearing in the pictures of her he had seen. No shoes, no gloves or elbow gauntlets, and oddly enough, no skirt. The kunoichi at the table was only wearing her red tunic and her skin tight black shorts.

The shark-nin hesitantly sat at the table, purposefully leaving one chair between he and Sakura. The little old lady came over with a big wooden tray with two deep bowls of beef stew, some hard but fresh rolls, and two more bottles of warm Sake, one for each of her guests.

“Arigato, Kou-chan. This was more than I could ask for.” Sakura politely said to the woman, deliberately keeping her eyes away from Kisame.

The old woman tucked a piece of her gray hair and smiled at her, “Aye, I ain’t got nothin’ better ta'do than holler at that ol’ yuppie. 'Sides, you two’re the only guests we’ve got up here in, oh, 'bout a month. Gives me somethin’ to look f'ward to.” The smile was gone by the time she finished talking and walked back into the kitchen.

Sakura spoke to him then, captivating his attention with those eyes of hers, “Relax, would you? I’m not going to do anything. I don’t feel well, and I’m stuck up here on this stupid mountain on an herb retrieval mission. I never saw you… besides, we’re both here for at least the next 48 hours because of the storm. We should be on peaceful terms.” She even threw her hands up in the air and shook them for good measure, he supposed.

Kisame liked this idea, and he decided to grab for his bowl, Sake, and two rolls. When he tried to grab both rolls at once from the tray, one slipped from his grasp and tumbled to the floor under the table. Both ninja went for it, and Kisame was slower, his hand landing on Sakura’s and startling them both.

“Uhhh… I got it. Thanks.” Kisame swallowed thickly, taking the roll from her warm fingers. It had been so, so long since he had felt a woman's touch, and even just the brush of his fumbling fingers on he feminine skin sent his head ablaze more than it should have. Sakura smiled sheepishly and both of them bumped their heads coming up from under the tabletop. Kisame hadn't realized until now just how much he missed a good romping.

Sakura tried not to look like an idiot, at least gracefully smoothing her hair back down to act like that didn’t just happen. She was blushing, and refused to meet Kisame’s sharp eyes.

The man gave a hearty laugh, rubbing at the back of his head and giving her a toothy grin. Then he sneezed and wiped at his nose. He wasn’t paying attention until a small white tissue was shoved into his view.

“Wipe your nose with a tissue. Using your sleeve is gross and will get other people sick.” Sakura said, plucking another tissue from the box on the table beside her to wipe at her own nose.

Kisame took it and wiped at his face with it, his nose now sore from his rough wiping every five minutes.

The pair ate in silence, Kisame scarfing down his bowl and rolls, while Sakura ate all of her vegetables and meat and dunked her rolls into the broth before eating them.

After the meal, Kisame’s nose thought it would be a good time to run twice as much as before now that all of the hot food was in his belly. “Screw it.” he said to himself as he grabbed for Sakura’s box of tissues. He took two, and stuffed one up each nostril.

Sakura was in the process of pouring another glass of sake for herself, and took a nice swig just before she saw him. Her sake ended up in the fire, the flames flaring and instantly eating the sake that was spewed into the pit. The kunoichi coughed and sputtered a few times, grappling for her napkin to wipe her face.

When she calmed down, she said, “You look utterly ridiculous, shark-face.”.

“I don’t care, my nose is sore.”, he said through his muffled mouth. His nose being stopped up made him sound even more ridiculous than he looked. He grabbed for his sake as well, picking up his chair and facing it towards the fire. He sat back down with his bottle in his lap and propped his feet up on the stone hearth of the fireplace.

Sakura mimicked his position, but chose to cross her petite legs over one another. The pink spitfire and the hulking shark man sat in silence for a few more minutes. Occasionally the sound of sake being consumed, the constant, steady clock tick-toking, and the cracking of the flames were so cozy.

Kisame suddenly broke the relaxing silence between them, “Hey… what did the ghost say to the bee?”, he asked her, watching Sakura’s brow furrow.

She swished her sake around in its bottle, took another long swig, and gave up, “I don’t know. What?”

“BOO-BEE!” Kisame snorted with laughter, and Sakura was not expecting that answer. She found herself laughing at his joke and the comfortable atmosphere they were enjoying while they worked the sake through their colds.

Kisame rose, turned to her and asked, “Do you want another? I’m ready for a second bottle.” Sakura handed her nearly empty bottle to the shark and smiled. A short moment later he returned and sat down again. He handed her a bottle, and sighed comfortably.

Sakura’s eyes lit up, and she said, “Wait! Okay, okay… what do we do when Chemists die?” The look was so intense in her eyes that Kisame automatically gave up.

“I’m not a Chemist, so I don’t know… what?” he said, dead panning.

Sakura shouted, arms thrown up into the air, “We Barium!”. She laughed so hard tears formed at the corners of her eyes. Kisame didn’t get it, he didn’t laugh, because he didn’t understand why it was so funny to bury people.

“I don’t get it, Pinky…”, he said.

Sakura stopped, her head tilted to the side, “Barium? As in the chemical element, soft metallic earth metal… you know what, never mind. That was a bad joke.” She took another long swig of her sake, her cheeks rosy when she turned to look at him.

Kisame looked at her, and all at once he drank his warm sake for no real reason. He was warming up, and his cold aching bones were finally thawing out. He reflected how nice this moment was, and this company he was keeping for now.

He was pleased that the Cherry Blossom of Konoha graced him with the peaceful quiet between them. He had kept his composure so far, not exactly cool though, with smashing his head under the table and all. Smooth Kisame, smooth.

Sakura gaped at him when he turned and slammed the empty bottle on the table behind him. She could see the obvious tint in his blue cheeks. “Oh my god, are you drunk?” She guffawed, knowing it had been less than five minutes since he sat down with his second bottle, now empty upon the table.

The male barked a laugh, all teeth in a goofy grin plastered across his face. His tongue loose, he blurted out the next sentence before he could stop himself. “I’m not drunk, I’m intoxicated by the good company I am keeping.” he said.

Sakura sat up straighter than a pin and Kisame noticed. After a moment he realized what he had said, and miserably failed to cover it up. “I…I uh-I didn’t mean it like! Like I was, uh… shit.” he said, blushing from the alcohol and his slipped confession. He crossed his arms around himself, sulked down into his chair and grumbled to himself about what an idiot he was and how long it had been since he talked to women.

The kunoichi beside him was blushing too, but she didn’t seem particularly angry or upset. The alcohol was getting to her head as well, it seemed. “I don’t mind, you know, baka. You really interest me, too.” Her words were a whisper that seemed to be to the fire as opposed to him.

Kisame’s blush reddened and he was alarmed that she didn’t flat out say no, per se. He watched the reflection of the fire dancing in her green eyes.

It was Sakura that spoke first, “Your skin…” she said, still watching the fire, and not him. “Its color, its texture, its so different. Everything about your physiology is that of a puzzle I want to figure out. I want to know what you’re made of.”

Hearing those perplexed words, Kisame looked at her in slight horror and took in the suddenly devious grin on her face, as if he was an evening meal to her. “Oi, Pinky… I’m not your science project. No experimenting, you geek.”, he said as he leaned away from her a little more.

Feigning hurt, Sakura punched him in the arm gently. “Asshole. How about a proposition, then.” she said through a small sniffle. Her dainty hands pulled another tissue from the box.

Kisame raised an eyebrow at her, leaning his ear closer now. “Oh ho-ho? Do tell.”

“Can I run some genetics tests on you, please? I’ll give you a prize every time you’re a good shark-face and do as I say.” Sakura leaned just a hair closer, watching his eyes drift to her lips.

She could hear Kisame’s audible gulp when she finished speaking, “Wha… what kind of prizes are we talkin’ here, Pinky…” he trailed off, and when Sakura suddenly leapt from her chair to stretch and head back to her room with her backpack. The man had been leaning so far toward her that he fell over in his chair.

Sakura tried her very best to seem seductive or sultry, but in her drunken stupor, she shuffled too far to the right and crashed into a table and chairs. Kisame laughed hard, and helped her from the pile she and the chairs had made, “Smooth.” was all he said, holding her hand for a fraction of a second longer that he should’ve.

Sakura brushed herself off and brushed past Kisame, intent on trying her hand at the stairs. “Nice ass, kunoichi.” Kisame said as she walked in from of him.

“Before you ask, no, I don’t sit in a pile of sugar. Now come on before I lose my science geek lady boner.” Sakura swiftly crawled up flight of carpeted stairs and used the walls as her leverage to her bedroom.

Kisame’s heart was pounding, but he denied any part of it was worry from the glint in Sakura’s intoxicated eyes. She was such a geek, though he supposed that was an alluring part of her. Her geek side sort of complimented his lack of experience with women in a weird way.

Both of them were people, and it was comforting to know that neither one of them was perfect. A wistful smile danced across his lips when Sakura took his hand and led him into her room.

They were stuck here together and alone for at least two days. He could most certainly indulge in the beautiful company and get some fun out of it.


	3. The Crow & the Butterfly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Itachi and Sakura prompt written years ago.  
> Apologies for OOC-ness.

The Crow chasing the Butterfly, two creatures flitting across the country.

One as beautiful as the first light of day, and the other as graceful and steady as the pitch black of night.  
The distance of a day between them, the darkness of night chasing the beauty of day.

Haruno Sakura, that damsel, ran day after day chasing down the only man she thought she loved, hell bent on killing him herself. After seeing the pain it put Naruto in, she decided she had to end it, or at least try. Shishou hadn’t exactly given her permission, but she would worry about that later.

For days now she ran from a man who she loathed. She hated him for what he had done to her beloved Sasuke all of those years ago. She didn’t want to hear the excuses for whatever reason he was tailing her, yet strangely enough the thought of him catching her excited her even more. The pinkette hadn't a clue why he hadn't caught up to her yet like she knew he could if he wanted to.

She told herself a thousand times that she loved Sasuke still, but inner told her if she must reassure herself, then she didn’t love him… at least not in the way she once did. Perhaps as a brother, and surely as a comrade, even though he was a traitor. Inner shouted respect at her over and over, telling her that’s all it was.

You see, Inner was very persuasive, and she very much liked the crow chasing her host. Her reasons obvious, as Inner was swayed by emotions, and lust is a very potent emotion. The idea of being attracted to that fiend scared the hell out of pretty Sakura. Inner continued to point out that this crow looked so much like Sasuke, but an older, even more silent, even more, deadly, and even more handsome version. The thoughts were slowly hypnotizing Sakura, and she hated herself for it.

She didn’t want to get involved with someone like him, let alone spend the rest of her prime dawdling after another Uchiha. Yeah-friggin’-right. That was not happening, not when she had worked so hard becoming as strong as she was.

The way he stalked her creeped he out, and yet, was alluring at the same time. It was almost like he was accompanying her… at a large distance. She didn’t think he was following her to get to Sasuke. Sakura herself scarcely knew where he was to begin with.

Every morning she would wake up to the tiny fluttering of butterfly wings flapping around the butterfly bushes she took refuge next to for the short nights. Her tired eyes would drift up to the trees, and there on the lowest branches, sat a murder of crows, just watching her silently. All of them had the blood red eyes of her pursuer.

She would hurriedly grab her bag, stomp out the embers of her fire, and as quietly as possible bolt to her next destination. One morning she used her compact mirror to look behind her, and could see the crows lift off and take to the opposite direction. Why did she feel a twinge of pride and promiscuity shoot through her just then?

That act continued to remain until one rather wet evening, Sakura was on her way to a charming little restaurant called the Butterfly Cafe. It was chilly outside at best, but the rain pounded hard in the late Summer. Her thin vest was drenched and sticking to her body like a second skin. It didn't help that when it poured like this, her medical skirt got so heavy she had to take it off. Here she was, running through rain in tight, wet clothes, with one Uchiha Itachi trailing her... how embarrassing! Again, the thought also had her excited. Finally, our heroine reached her destination, and after hanging up her wet clothes to dry by the large fire and changing into fresh ones, enjoyed hot tea and strawberry scones over her medical texts while she waited for the rain to dissipate.

Late into the evening, the manager of the beautifully quaint cafe came to Sakura with a smile and a check, and asked if she needed anything else. When Sakura thanked the older woman and told her she would be departing soon, the woman bowed and walked away.

Sakura barely paid attention to the check while she finished the last paragraph of a particular scroll. She reached for her coin purse, and when she noticed the scribbled zero signs beside her balance, she immediately took it to the cashiers desk.

The elder woman was sweeping behind the desk when she approached, and Sakura subconsciously gripped her pack tighter in her fist. When she asked, the woman told Sakura that a tall, dark cloaked gentleman with beautiful eyes had come in, paid for her ticket, and left again with no more than an 'arigato.'.

The thought scared Sakura again. That beautiful bastard had been within 50 feet of her and she didn't notice?! How was that possible? She was not a fan of Itachi scaring the hell out of her. She turned, too freaked out to stick around any longer, and as she passed through the rice paper door of the Butterfly Cafe, he was standing there, towering over her.

No more than a surprised squeak left her pink lips before the Crow grabbed the Butterfly by her wings and whisked her up and away. He was silent until they reached a small outcropping of rock outside of town.

The ground was sloped down, making a sort of makeshift den in the dirt. Sakura was too stunned to do anything. Anything except grit her teeth and squeeze her eyes shut. She hadn’t paid attention to where they were. All she knew was that they were outside, on the ground, and standing still. She had been too busy squirming in his grasp and shouting obscenities at him, all the while blushing profusely and remembering her embarrassing moment of practical nakedness in the storm earlier.

Itachi just stood silently, hands still wrapped around her wrists, held in front of her. He just watched her.

Sakura suddenly realized that it had stopped raining before she left the Cafe, and that is smelled awfully good wherever they were. She peeked one jade eye open to look at her sandal-clad foot, toes painted sea foam green.

She refused to meet his eyes, but something small and blue caught the corner of her eye. Her head whipped around, her wrists released so she could turn full circle. The blossom-haired woman was in awe. All around them, making a fence around this outcropping of rock and dirt was a plethora of huge Butterfly bushes.

All of the colors of all of these common butterflies surrounded them. Sakura completely forgot the Crow standing so misplaced in this circle of colorful Butterflies. A dazzling smile broke out and a sigh of happiness left her slender throat.

At her feet, a lone, beautiful Emerald Swallowtail was dancing, just fluttering as it pecked for worms in the soft ground. A few feet behind it, a crow hopped around, curious about the Butterfly. It jabbed at the dirt as it went, searching for its evening grubs.

Sakura spun around and giggled, arms thrown wide. The sound alarmed all of the Butterflies, and they all flew up at once in a great sloppy spiral. It was utterly breathtaking. As breathtaking as the real Butterfly dancing in the center of their fluttering, or so Itachi thought. His original goal to persuade her into healing his eyes, he silently cursed himself for being captured by her beauty. Oh how naive his bother must be.

The Crow blinked a time or two, grabbed Sakura by the shoulder and spun her towards him. She was unafraid, and too caught up in the moment to care that it was him standing there with her. She was a bit shocked, but graced him with a happy smile nonetheless.

His eyes were black, deep pools of ash that stared at her silently, expressionless. Ever since he saw this Butterfly leave on this journey, he had followed her. At first he intended to make his capture quick, have her heal his eyes, perhaps kill her, and leave. Though as the days grew longer and the nights shorter, he found himself following along as her silent, distant companion, and falling a bit hard for this creature. The little show she had put on this afternoon was like a slap to the face and a dose of reality that he came to follow her with one goal in mind. Now, however, he wasn't so sure that was all he wanted...

He witnessed the grace and finesse of this beauty, and by the time she took shelter in that Cafe earlier that afternoon, he had a real dilemma on his hands. He would make her his.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! More will come at some point, so stay tuned.


End file.
